The Terror and The Beast
by joelcoxriley
Summary: Admists all the screams of those she tortured and killed and the constant laughing of the apes, all she wanted was silence. For him, the silence drove him to the brink of insanity, and all he craved was the beating of her heart to drown out the silence.


**Due to my innability to go to bed due to an alchol poisoning incident of a suit mate, I have decided to put this little one shot up to kill time. Contains slight Corrupt Cynder/OC friendship/romance. **

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With his failed sight, he had never seen the strike coming. Chained, he could not even dodge as the ivory talons took blood and fur, deep crimson running in thick streaks down wintered fur.

He could not even afford to cry as the tainted blood of apes that coated his throat prevented him from breathing properly. The blood stained his jowls and chest, thickly pooling around his paws and drying, causing sore and pained toes.

The beast had blisters filled with infected puss underneath faded fur from wounds, often being jabbed in his already damaged eyes or flanks for the ape's entertainment. If they wanted to be exceptionally cruel, the apes would allow the sun to shine upon the captive beast, causing his fur to fall out in patches and his flesh to develop hives in fervor of his reaction. The harsh rays would sear his flesh and fur, even turn his bones black. But the apes would never allow him to burn that bad. They were too cruel.

The beast felt his head lurch from the blow, biting his own tongue with his breaking teeth. Biting. He was always biting something. At first, it was his restraints-the beast easily breaking the thick and heavy chains of his prison. Now it was magic, and his sheer strength and resilience could not break his bonds. If the beast wasn't biting metal, he was being milked of his saliva by strange tubes that would collect the fluid. And when he wasn't being milked, he was being stabbed by all kinds of crude, makeshift weapons. It was an attempt to rile the beast up-and it worked. If he wasn't biting and snapping the weapons in half and taking the arm of the ape with it, he was tearing an ape apart. They only wanted a simple bite, but the beast was too strong, and gained an unparalleled zeal when fueled by the scent of blood. Even if the apes did survive the loss of blood, the bacteria in the beast's bite would kill them in hours.

But the fervor and zeal acquired from the frenzy had faded when the cries faltered, the scent of hot blood faded and the heartbeats ceased. All but one. Then came pain.

"Do not look at me like that!" Cynder hissed, ivory talons scrapping the beast's fur as a tooth was sent flying and new blood splattered the floor.

The black dragoness chuckled, rising her talons coated in red as her tongue softly glided against them.

The beast slowly rose to look upon the dragoness, left eye bloody and swollen with a deep scrape down his face, blood dripping on the ground near a missing canine.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid? Humph. I should expect no less from an animal. Even the apes are more trainable than you...but at least you have your purpose." Cynder looked upon the beast, red eyes looking towards her, or even passed her. She couldn't tell with those damn eyes. From what she could tell the beast was completely blind, but it's other senses were extraordinary. From the apes lying on the floor, torn apart, it was impressive what this beast could do even while bound. Not even the thickest chains could keep it caged for long.

"A pity that I can't end you here and now. But my master has plans for you. I'll enjoy watching you suffer, beast." Cynder drawled slowly, voice smooth and low as she laughed darkly, the beast still staring upon her, or at least trying to.

"Your heart does not...speak that." The beast spoke, voice course and dry yet deep and smooth. Cynder snapped her head, slightly taken aback, baring her teeth, "I did not order you to speak."

"And your master...does not ha...have plans for...m..me. You lie...why?" The beast asked, Cynder's eyes widening ever so slightly upon hearing it speak the truth.

"Listen and answer to me, dog! How do you know?" Cynder asked, eyes narrowing darkly as her talons flexed, ready to strike.

"The heart...does not lie." He replied, Cynder scoffing in reply.

"If you aren't willing to comply, why don't I rip out both your damn eyes?" Cynder asked casually, flexing her talons and examining them. The creature just stared at her. Or seemed to.

"Why not just kill me? You said you wanted to...but you lied."

"Why? Because it would be oh, so much more fun to torture you." Cynder replied, scraping his chin slightly with a talon.

"You lie. Your master is not here...other wise you said you...wa...wanted to kill me. Why...torture me when...you can do no greater harm than the...apes? Why not kill m..me?" The beast asked, left eye now swollen shut, blood and clear puss running down his face.

Cynder growled, not even having an answer as she slashed his face once more, the beast yelping at the sting of pain, "Silence!"

The beast leaned as far as his restraints would allow, looking at the ground for several seconds before slowly turning his gaze to the dragoness.

"You s...say words...lies...but your h...heart...speaks with truth."

"How do you know I lie?" Cynder asked, voice dark with withheld frustration.

"I hear your heart...it beats...good. Good...you have a good heart. Not like the others, the apes."

At this, Cynder snorted, "What a fool you are."

"Then kill me...if I am wrong. Hearts do not lie."

Cynder growled, the beast looking upon her, single eye not even focusing on her, like a mindless lamb ready for slaughter. Cynder readied her talons, but paused, hissing in frustration as she turned around, smacking him with her tail, "Seeing you suffer would be even more satisfying."

The beast yelped upon being hit, her scent disappearing and heartbeat fading, the room falling into silence once more.

After that, the apes never came. There was no stabbing at his eyes and flanks, no shoving odd tubes in his mouth until it became hard to breathe, no harsh sunlight. At first, it was peaceful. But then came silence.

Until the silence was broken by the sound of clawed paws hitting the cold cobble stone floor, the beast's ears twitching as his heart started to increase, eventually matching the pattern of his visitor. He could smell her scent before she even fully arrived. It was alluring, intoxicating.

When Cynder arrived, she stared at the beast for a long time, no words being spoken. He was just listening to her heartbeat. The only thing that broke the silence.

"Do not look at me like that." Cynder growled darkly, the beast's red eyes looking at her, or passed her, "You are wrong. Hearts do lie." Cynder replied, the black dragoness swiftly turning to walk away, her scent and heartbeat fading as silence once again reigned.

The silence reigned until it became almost deafening. To him, it was much worse than the light of the sun. Yet once again the silence was broken by the familiar heartbeat. At first, the beast had thought his ears were playing tricks on him like they did so many times, yet now they were not, for the steady rhythm of the Terror's heart spurred his with excitement as it grew louder.

Cynder remained silent for several minutes before sighing, "What is your name, dog?"

The beast fell silent, unsure if he even had a name. What was his life like before this? He could not imagine, or even remember. All he remembered was his mother, and she would call him something...what was it? Mica...Nica...Nicika? Nikita! Yes, that was what his ape mother called him!

"N...N...Ni...kita. Nik...ita. Nikita." The varg forced out, voice pained from not speaking. Cynder grunted slightly at the name, shaking her head.

"I ordered you not to look at me like that. I hate the way you look at me, do...Nikita." Cynder corrected herself, yet approached the bound wolf, admiring the handiwork on his face. He scarred quite well, especially on his left eye, the horrendous scars running from his ear, eye and passed his mouth to his jaw.

Nikita said nothing, simply enjoying her scent, the beating of her heart and her voice. With a deep sigh, Cynder laid down, several feet away. The Terror remained silent. The silence was such a nice change from the endless chatter of the apes. It felt good not to be gazed upon by another that either looked upon her with hatred or terror. He could not judge her nor her actions, for he could not see. Nikita, however, could get comforted by her presence, the wolf simply content by just listening to her heartbeat.

After several minutes, Cynder had risen and slowly left, she losing her silence and he losing his sound. Several times Cynder had returned, each time she staying a little longer and getting ever closer, he beginning to hear her heart with more clarity. Together they just rested, one in silence, another in sound. An unspoken mutual agreement.

The pair stayed that way, paws barely touching as Cynder admired the odd set of claws on the inside of Nikita's front legs; long, sharp, opposable...they would make excellent weapons for killing. Looking at his fur, she noticed it was dirty and stained from blood and puss, the wintered fur even falling out in some areas. But the features that bothered her most was the red eyes that always seemed to stare at her, yet passed her. While blind, nothing seemed to hide from them. Not even when Nikita blinked. Despite him being a beast, she felt equal with him.

Nikita stayed completely still, his paws twitching slightly as their claws touched. It was so odd to feel something that was not cold and hard or pointed and sharp. Comforted by her beating heart and scent, nothing else seemed to matter. All his life he was being judged for what he was, for his looks. With Cynder he knew she would not judge him despite how cruelly she had treated him. He could not see the tainted green in her eyes, nor the red on her chest or brilliant ivory on her horns-like a crown. But he was happy, for he could hear her heart, and could feel something gentle and warm press against his cold snout caked with blood. He did not know what it was, but it smelled like Cynder, and her heartbeat quickened. It was Cynder.

Cynder gently nuzzled the varg before her, Nikita confused and unsure as he slowly started to mimic the movement. Slowly, Cynder pulled away, the pair remaining in silence once more. For Nikita, it didn't matter how long she stayed. It did not matter how many horrible things she did. No matter what she did to him or others, her heart never lied, and she had become his first friend.

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**Thank you for reading! This one shot ties into Blood and Fire, and largely on Nikita's origins. Feel free to review and thank you!**


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